AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He’s goading me, and I know it, but I can’t stop myself. I poke his chest twice. “Yeah, he is, and I don’t like the way you treat him. If you want my help, tell me what’s going on right now.”
“You done?” His voice is calm, even-keeled like I’m just a non-threatening entity that amuses him.
“No,” I poke him again. “I’m not done. This is a church, and you walk in here with no respect for any person in this building, and I want to know why.” I poke him again. “Well, why?”
The next sound that comes out surprises me. It’s a low rumbling laugh that’s entirely too appealing. This man isn’t supposed to have a laugh like this. His should be dark and growly, menacing like a Disney villain.
It shouldn’t sound like warm honey, and it shouldn’t make my body react in ways it never has before.
“That’s none of your damn business, little girl.”
I try not to wince at that little girl dig because I know what he’s doing or what he’s trying to do. He wants to make himself feel better by proving that I am no different than him, that I am unable to control my baser emotions like anger and hate.
“The name is Letty, as you well know. But if you don’t want to tell me anything, then I’m afraid I’ll have to do my due diligence before dispensing church funds to you.”
His nostrils flare, and for a brief moment, I wonder if I’m ready for whatever comes next. Anger. Violence. More threats.
“Don’t play games you don’t know the rules to, Letty.”
“I know something is wrong here. I know the pastor is a good man and doesn’t deserve whatever you’re doing to him.”
“Yeah? Well, let me tell you what I know, Letty.”
He’s no longer a picture of relaxation but rather a tightly wound coil of unspent energy as he stands taller to intimidate me before he gets in my face.
“I know that you’re a naïve little rich bitch, who thinks she knows everything about the world because you have some useless degree and use big words with your shitty rich bitch friends. I know that this is the real world, honey, and whatever you think you know about me and your precious little pastor, you don’t know jack fucking shit.”
Each of his words hit like a blow straight to my chest. The passion and vitriol in his words ring as if they are the gospel.
“I’m trying to,” I insist.
“No, you’re not. You think you know everything, and the world is black and white. I’m bad and Braden is good, but you never stop to ask yourself why. Because church is just another corrupt enterprise, and you’re too fucking afraid to judge it because you might piss off your sky daddy.”
I suck in a breath, ready to tell him that he’s wrong, so wrong that he wouldn’t know right if it slapped him in the face. That’s what I want to tell him, but when I open my mouth, nothing comes out, and his lips crash into mine.
